


Tsukimi: The Moon and You

by junko



Category: Bleach
Genre: Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Male Friendship, Villains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-19 11:08:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22910083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: It is the mid-autumn moon-viewing festival. Who better for Aizen to spend it with... than a blind man.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 35





	Tsukimi: The Moon and You

**Author's Note:**

> Villains just hanging out, being friends. You know, like you do.
> 
> References to characters in the CFYOW.

Outside of the Fifth Division barracks, the leaves had begun to turn color. The courtyard maples were a rioting blaze of reds, oranges, and brilliant golds. The sturdy, stubborn oaks had grudgingly consented to the season only enough to shift to a shimmering coppery brown. 

Aizen Sousuke sipped his morning tea, trying to compose some kind of haiku to that effect, when Captain Hirako Shinji came stumbling noisily onto the veranda. Just the sound of his footfalls on the wood made Sousuke’s shoulders tense.

With a huff, the captain plopped down beside Sousuke. His knobby knee nearly knocked the tea bowl from Sousuke’s hand--and would have done, had it not been for a quick hakudo move to protect it. All of which was for naught, when Hirako smacked Sousuke’s head playfully. Hot tea splashed Souske’s hakama.

Gods, Sousuke hated this man. It was only with extreme effort did he keep the poisonous glare from his eyes.

Hirako complained, “What? No, ‘good morning captain’!? What kind of shit adjutant are you, anyway? Were you gonna let me oversleep? The hell, it’s almost ten! Why aren’t you running the morning calisthenics? Where the fuck is everyone?”

“It’s Tsukimi, Captain,” Sousuke explained as calmly as possible, as he wiped at the tea stains on the thighs of his hakama. In the morning chill, the wet splashes were already growing clammy and uncomfortable. He took in a long, steadying breath to keep from effortlessly and joyously dropping Hado 45 on his captain’s head in retaliation. “Everyone has the day off.”

“Moon-viewing, huh?” Hirako stuck a finger up his nose and made a face like he thought the whole holiday was some kind of joke. “Pfft, poetry bores me.”

Sousuke just nodded. There was never a point to arguing with Hirako when he expressed this kind of opinion. For one, half the time, he was only trying to get a rise. For another, if Sousuke made any kind of reasoned appeal to the contrary, he’d be told that the captain was ‘only joking’ and that Sousuke should ‘lighten up.’

“Do you have plans for this evening, sir?” Sousuke asked, downing what remained of his tea in a gulp. It was a crime against nature to drink tea without tasting it, but Sousuke had also learned that unattended tea would be commandeered quickly by a hungover captain. Which… fifty/fifty Hirako was now. The swearing and early morning irritation was commonplace, but the clumsiness could either be from heavy morning-after limbs… or intentional bullying. It was not beyond the captain to have tried to splash Sousuke on purpose, especially since he followed it up with a far more direct and successful attempt. Sousuke adjusted his glasses as a physical reminder to adjust his attitude. He tried on a small smile: “Perhaps you and Lieutenant Sarugaki will buy some dango? The vendors are sure to be out.”

Hirako leaned his elbows heavily on his knees, slumping forward. He gave a desultory glare at the empty practice yard. “It’s a stupid, wasted day.”

Sousuke nodded, but he was unable to hold on to his smile this time. _Yes, gods forbid we enjoy nature for a day instead of bashing each other over the head with sticks._

#

Even though everyone else had the whole day off, Sousuke made sure all the captain’s paperwork was in order and properly filed away. He did not want Hirako to have any excuse to keep him from the party tonight. 

Sousuke was weirdly excited to spend the evening cooking with friends.

Afterwards, they would eat, sip sake or tea, and watch the moon rise. With luck, Sousuke would have a haiku of his own composed, if not he would fall back on memorized poetry. 

And he would be in company.

The company of like-minded people.

Bending his head to it, Sousuke pushed hard to finish up the work. If Hirako tried to stop him, Sousuke swore he would unleash Kyoka Suigetsu and give that irritating man a hypnotic suggestion he would never forget… maybe a million spiders crawling in his underwear? Scorpions in his hair?

No, that wasn’t worthy of Kyoka Suigetsu.

He’d have to try another way. Perhaps, he could use his substitute, if he needed. Though Sousuke was trying to be judicious about overusing that trick. There was always the danger that too many micro-interactions could lead to some trigger that might unravel Kyoka Suigetsu’s perfect hypnosis. A one-time, large-scale projection was one thing compared to the constant fluctuating hypnotic ‘corrections’ Kyoka Suigetsu had to perform when dealing one-on-one like that, with a living stand-in. Fortunately, Hirako didn’t know much at all about his subordinate outside of the fact that he felt Sousuke to be too timid and bookish.

The two of them were such a bad match.

Sousuke could hardly wait until his hogyoku was perfected. Then, he could be rid of his captain… one way, or the other.

#

In the end, Hirako wasn’t even around when Sousuke took off for the Ninth Division. By chance it was that division’s captain, the burly Muguruma, who’d come and swept Hirako off to a gathering of captains… something about the Kuchiki estate and the unparalleled orchard scenery. It was unclear, however, whether or not Ginrei had officially invited them or if the intention was to go over the wall and make their own party.

Sousuke hadn’t expected an invitation, despite the fact that Muguruma’s own lieutenant, the green-haired, Kuna Mashiro, was obviously tagging along. He’d never been happier in his life to be utterly ignored.

With a bright, genuine smile, Sousuke had waved them goodbye, with a promise to “hold down the fort."

In a hot minute, he’d been out and on his way.

#

Sousuke had never had a friend quite like Tousen Kaname.

For one, Kaname’s blindness meant there was no… room for error. Sousuke couldn’t ‘fix’ any blunders that revealed his true nature with a quick flash of Kyoka Suigetsu. At first, this had made Sousuke extra cautious, but it had been Kaname who’d first broached the subject of rebellion.

After that, their friendship had become incredibly precious to Sousuke.

Kaname was one of the few people who truly knew him.

Perhaps, the only one.

Well, there was Ichimaru Gin. Though Gin hardly counted, since he was a murderous sociopath and having that in common with someone was not something Sousuke particularly admired about himself. 

With Kaname, Sousuke could feel like… a _good_ man. 

It wasn’t that Sousuke didn’t think highly of himself. It was just that, in so many ways, he was so much more like Gin: a monster pretending to be human. Some days, faking a smile was the only thing keeping Sousuke from unleashing his reiatsu in a destructive explosive scream.

Meanwhile, Kaname brought out Sousuke’s better impulses. A natural philosopher, Kaname drew out Sousuke’s thoughtful, contemplative nature. They would argue well into the night about law and human nature and everything else under the sun. Kaname was so brilliant and quick-witted and passionate that Sousuke didn’t have to hide his own wicked intelligence. Because Kaname held many of the same values, neither did Sousuke have to pull his punches. He could say exactly what he thought of the rottenness of Seireitei justice without fear of reprimand, or worse.

It was a gift.

Such an irreplaceable, precious gift.

And, then there was… that odd and surprising bonus: the cooking. Who knew that a blind man could be such a skilled chef? Out of necessity in his early life, Sousuke had learned to prepare decent meals, but with Kaname, he’d begun to truly enjoy time spent in the kitchen, the smells of something delicious wafting through the air, conversation flowing naturally, a good brew of tea in hand…

Sousuke quickened his steps in anticipation.

#

Souske brought a special tea blend as a gift. 

Kaname took the package with a grateful bow and a knowing smile. “If you meant to surprise me, I can smell what it is, you know.”

“Of course. I bought it because I knew only you could truly appreciate the complex scent. It tastes just as good. I kept some for myself.” Sousuke admitted, as he kicked off his sandals to step inside. They had chosen to meet at an abandoned farmhouse in the Rukongai. It was a place Sousuke had found while he was at Academy. They sometimes used the ramshackled building as their base of operations. The building was a bit rundown, but it had a lovely porch that looked out on to a wild tangle of woods. As the porch faced east, it would be perfect to watch the moonrise. 

Something was already cooking over the irori. Peeking into the pot, Sousuke could see shirataki noodles. “What are we having?”

Taking the pot off the heat, Kaname drained the noodles. Steam filled the air in a burst as he dumped the water into a colander set in the kitchen sink. “Nikujaga,” he said. “I’ve been in the mood for comfort food.”

Sousuke came into the kitchen and washed his hands. Looking around for something to busy himself with, he found a pile of yams. “Can I peel these?”

“Yes, and chop them,” Kaname said, as he poured some oil into a pan. Sprinkling sliced onions on it, the small kitchen immediately began to smell like something good to eat.

“Will your friend Komamura be joining us?” Sousuke asked, settling in at the counter.

“Perhaps? I suspect not, however. He’s still very uncertain about anyone besides me.”

Understandable, since he hid what Sousuke could only imagine was a beast’s face… or possibly an oni’s. “It’s a shame,” Sousuke said honestly, “I would guess he has a poet’s heart. He seems so very… cognizant of how beautiful the world can be. And, though I don’t know him like you do, he’s given me the impression of a sensual man--that is, one who is very attuned to the senses."

Kaname smiled at that. “Just so." On another part of the stove top, he set a tea kettle to boil, “And… little Gin?”

“Elsewhere,” Sousuke said wryly. It was clear that Kaname merely tolerated their gleeful little murderer, despite the fact that Kaname had been known to have a thirst for bloody revenge now and again as well. “There’s a woman. I’m unclear if she is a little sister or a lover, but she waits for him in some distant district. He goes to her now and again. I cover for his long absences with the captain. He brings her supplies--which I think he steals, but no matter. One of these days, I’m sure he’ll bring her back with him. I’m not sure what he’s waiting for, honestly. He could set her up in a tradesmen’s home with little fuss. Apparently she’s well endowed. She could work…” Sousuke stopped himself from suggesting something rude. “Well, I could see why he might not allow that if he’s in love with her. Still, I’m uncertain why he hesitates. Perhaps he can sense that she’s Academy bound is waiting for her to be ready to make the journey?”

“Ah, surprisingly romantic,” Kaname said, as he sautéed the onions. “A perfect tale for moon-viewing!”

Most of the famous poems about the moon involved waiting for a midnight lover to slip in under the curtains.

Stories of affairs, illicit love.

All of which, of course, called to mind Kaname’s special friend, the woman who was another man’s wife. Sousuke had never asked if they had… entangled before or even after she’d married that True First bastard. It seemed unnecessary. Whether or not they had consummated their relationship, it was clear she was Kaname’s only love. 

Peeled of their skins, Sousuke began to chop the yams into small cubes.

“Have you ever been in love, Aizen?” Kaname asked, coming over to the counter. Blind hands easily found the carrots he’d set out and began to peel and chop those, as well. “Do you have anyone who waits for you?”

“No,” Sousuke said plainly. “No one.”

Kaname laughed lightly, and pointed the blade of the paring knife at Sousuke teasingly, “I find that hard to believe. You have so many admirers! Surely one of them has caught your eye.”

Sousuke sighed. “No. No one,” he said again. “I can’t say that I’ve ever been in love.”

Kaname’s eyes widened as though in shock. Then he shook his head, sending cornrows bouncing. “Not even in your youth? No teacher admired from afar? No fine lady from a poem?”

“Oh, well, if we’re including fictional characters, yes, I suppose so,” he said with a little smirk. Having finished the yams, he started in on the green beans. Snapping off their tops and then snapping them in half. “If you’re asking if I’ve ever taken a lover, then the answer is yes, a few. As you noted, I don’t lack for offers. For some baffling reason, people find me attractive.”

“Ah, your voice has always made me assume you were handsome,” Kaname said, a little wrinkle of a frown developing between his eyebrows. “Are you saying you’re not?”

Sousuke let out a little dark chuckle. “I’m no beauty like those that the Kuchiki seem to produce.” Then, he remembered Kaname had no idea what that looked like, so he added, “All fine bones and sculpted, hard angles, and long, flowing hair. No, I'm not like that. I would have considered myself average, possibly even a little plain, were it not for all the attention.”

“Female attention,” Kaname nodded.

“Mostly,” Sousuke agreed. 

“Oh,” Kaname said, after tossing in beef that had been marinating in something--soy and mirin from the smell of it--in with the onions. “Is that why you’re unsatisfied? Were you… that is….” his cheeks darkened in embarrassment and he seemed unable to finish.

“I’ve had my share of men,” Sousuke said by way of explanation. “They were satisfying for what they were, but I was never in love with any of them particularly, either. If anything, the men I’ve had interested me less. Women, for the most part, seem easier to gauge. Or, at least, they will go along with a certain shared pretense about what a man is supposed to be like in courtship and in bed. I know how to be that person. And, it’s frustratingly easy to capture a woman’s attention. Kindness is apparently something they are unused to. I find that if I even listen to a fraction of what they say, they think I’m some kind of wonderment. By contrast, who knows what men want in a lover? My experience would suggest they prefer fucking to loving, at any rate.”

Kaname was silent for so long that Sousuke wondered if he’d made a mistake by being so casual about having sex with men. He hadn’t thought Kaname to be a prude, but sometimes people assumed the only reason one might talk about such things is because they were building up to some kind of love confession. 

“Ah, perhaps I’ve made things awkward,” Sousuke said. “My apologies.”

It turned out, however, Kaname’s mind was where it always went when they spoke of love. “I think you’re wrong about women, Aizen. I gave Kakyou all my attention. I don’t think women are as easily wooed as you say.”

Yet. 

Sometimes Sousuke suspected that one of the reasons so many women were drawn to him was that, despite the facade he carefully maintained, they sensed, deep down, that he _would_ hurt them, that he was... extremely dangerous.

There were many things Sousuke could share with Kaname, but this was not one of them. “Attraction is unpredictable,” he said, instead. “And the attention of a rich man is a very particular kind of draw. One that neither of us could ever hope to counter.”

To the pot with the beef and onions, Kaname added a broth, likely a dashi base. To that, they added the various vegetables they’d prepared. Covering it, Kaname set it to simmer. They would add the cooked noodles back in as soon as everything else was tender.

While they waited, Sousuke prepared the tea pot. The kettle had begun boiling some time ago, but they’d let it bubble until now. He poured the water into the pot and let the tea leaves steep. “You should let me kill him,” Sousuke said, setting out the bowls. “Kyoka Suigetsu could have him believe he was choking on his own vomit, if we wished. It could be wonderful to watch.”

Kaname frowned. “The lack of emotion in your voice when you say things like that is deeply disturbing, Aizen.”

“The man deserves worse,” Sousuke said simply. Leaning his back against the wall, he tucked his arms into the sleeves of his uniform. “If only we could penetrate the gated community Tsunayashiro has been hiding in. If you let me, I can find a way.”

“I hate him,” Kaname admitted, “But not as much as those who let him go without punishment.”

“There’s no reason to think we couldn’t kill them all,” Aizen said. Picking up the tea pot, he swirled it in his hands. “Why not go after the man as well as the institution?”

Kaname’s lips pursed together. This was an argument they’d had as often as the subject of Kakyou and her murder came up. For reasons that continued to baffle Sousuke, Kaname refused to go after the husband. “You can’t draw your zanpakuto on a True First,” Kaname said finally. “They’d hang you, Aizen.”

This, ultimately, was how the argument always ended.

Kyoka Suigetsu’s biggest flaw was that more often than not, people remembered seeing the weapon drawn. It was part of the release ritual, after all. Sousuke had tried convincing Kyoka Suigetsu that it would be best if part of the hypnosis was to then forget having ever seen them, but… Kyoka Suigetsu existed only as a reflection. Therefore, they craved attention, notice--something to know that they were more than a brief mirage. 

Even if Sousuke could sneak into this noble-only conclave and confront Tsunayashiro, someone, possibly even Tsunayashiro himself, would remember Sousuke pulling his weapon. 

Tsunayashiro was effectively a civilian now, and, far more importantly, one of the True First. He was almost literally untouchable. To threaten him with a weapon--with a zanpakuto… well, Kaname was right, Sousuke would be hunted and hung like a dog.

Sousuke had no doubt that he could fight them all and win, but at what cost?

All of his other plans would have to be tossed aside, just to gain revenge on a single man for a single crime.

Better to do follow Kaname’s wisdom and leave the man in favor of the bigger prize, Central 46 itself. There would be time, after they'd seized or destroyed that vile institution, to pursue personal vendettas.

With a sigh, Sousuke poured them each a bowl of tea. “You win,” he said, handing Kaname his. “It’s not worth the risk. At least… not yet.”

Kaname chuckled. “Good. We can’t lose you, Aizen. None of this works without your Kyoka Suigetsu.”

Sousuke sipped his tea. “Shall we retire to the porch? The moon will be rising soon.”

Kaname nodded, cupping the bowl of steaming tea in his hands as though to warm them. “What would I see according to the poets, Aizen?”

Sliding the door open to the bright full moon, Sousuke gazed up at it for a moment, remembering the words before he recited, “From Saigyo Hoshi: Tangled weeds spread around / The garden of my hut; / Evening dew / A garland of jewels / From the moon this autumn night.”

“Really?” Kaname turned his head towards the forest, as though trying to visualize the poet’s words in a scene he couldn’t see. “The weeds are like jewels?”

Aizen nodded, gazing out at the silvery tangle of grasses. “In a way, yes. The dew drops form a kind of pearl-shape along the edges of the long, thin leaves, which I guess do look a bit like a necklace since it all becomes a monochrome of silver and shadow. The entire forest is bathed in a muted light…” he shook his head in disappointment, at the inadequacy of his own descriptions. “Ah. This is why we need poets.”

“I quite agree,” Kaname said, sipping his tea.

Sousuke looked at his friend then. “You’re a treasure to me, Tousen,” he said. “My captain would mock me for reciting poetry. The rest of the world would lock me up for plotting the murder of a True First. You… somehow seem to accept all that I am, and don’t appear to hate me for it.”

“How could I hate you? You and I are the same, Aizen,” Kaname said with a little nod of a bow. “You’re the only one who lifted a hand to save me from Tsunayashiro’s men. It would be enough to owe you for my life, but you’ve become an ally, someone who sees the ugliness of injustice as clearly as I do, and has the same passion to correct it… and with your power, we could actually do it. You give me hope. You are the moon who can turn my tangled dreams into jewels.”

Kyoka Suigetsu sighed contentedly at that turn of phrase.

Yes. For himself, but for this man, too, Sousuke intended to take them all the way to the Soul King’s throne, if he had to.

The pot rattled on the stove.

It was time to eat.

**Author's Note:**

> No one needed this fic, but me.
> 
> Thanks to my beta reader, Josey (cestus), for reminding me to make Aizen more Aizen.


End file.
